A/N: So I was nosing around the CW Boards last week, and I saw some really interesting posts over there. For those who haven't read my fic Dog Eat Dog: Dean Winchester is the human half of the Trickster God Coyote.

Summary: The title says it all. God calls upon Coyote to put an end once and for all to the angel arc. Possible spoilers for Point of No Return. Part 1 of 2

Nakdet the lion god sneered. He drew himself up to his full height, which was twelve feet. Most impressive.

God tried not to smile, then he whistled, one sharp, short note.

It was a good trick. And it never got old, even tho it was effective only one time per sucker - ah, I mean, visitor.

God loved jokes. It wasn't good to be serious all the time. The armadillo, the echidna and the platypus certainly proved that. He always got a kick out of seeing his guests' reactions when he called in his dog.

Hades had Cerebes. Three heads, gigantic, and mean as well, hell. No surprise there.

Most folks figured God's Dog would be Lassie, or RinTinTin. Or Benjy.

Most folks figured wrong.

The universe was filled with wonders, all right, and it was surprising that there were still some who could be surprised by the sight of God's Dog. Nakdet the Unconquerable was one. He was a newly minted primal cat god, Bastet's distant cousin on her father's side. (The goddess Sekhmet wanted nothing to do with him.) Nakdet was known in the trade as a grey. That meant he was borderline. Like all felines, he had one foot in heaven and the other foot in hell; he could swing either way. God knew the only reason Nakdet came to the Garden was to check Him out, to scent out some perceived weakness, to be used perhaps at a later time.

It was time to get tricky.

Turns out Akba-Atatdia, First Scolder, First Artist, The Old Man, The Magician, Roamer, the Fine Young Chief Howling in the Dawn in the East, also known as God's Dog, Coyote, loved tricks too.

Unlike certain boastful angels who claimed that their true essence was the size of the Chrysler Building, Coyote's essence spanned the planet, as befits a Trickster God. The top of his furry, grayish brown back brushed against the stars. His brushy tail slashed through the air above Mount Everest. When he pricked his ears alertly the jet stream curved in response, and the sharp inhale and exhale of his breath stirred up cloud formations. His massive paws moved with sure-footed grace over the rocky floors of the deepest ocean depths.

Coyote was showing off now, and he loved the way Nakdet's eyes bulged out of his sockets as he craned his neck up and up and up and up.

And up.

Coyote had to fit into the Garden, so he shrunk down by degrees. He was one hundred fifty feet tall, magnificent, sleek and fierce as he loomed over the treetops. His godhood shone in his golden eyes.

Nakdet's eyes widened in shock. Coyote smirked at him.

"Hand me that spade over there, will you? Mind those lilies I planted over there now," God said as Coyote stepped carefully into the garden.

"These sunflowers need to be trimmed back." God sat back on his knees and glared at the offending plant life. "They're taking over."

"Ah, kitty kibble!" Coyote yipped. He lowered his head, narrowed his eyes at the cat god and licked his lips.

Nakdet the Unconquerable, also known as He Who Wields the Eternal Silver Claw, suddenly decided he had places to go, other deities to see. He disappeared in a flash of greenish gold light that looked like a startled cat's eye.

Coyote chuckled. He shrunk down even further, until he was the size of a very large Shetland pony. He picked the spade up in his mouth and padded over. God took the spade and then the Old Man sat down on his haunches with his tongue lolling out. He cocked his head and stared at the thick, lush greenery around them. "Why don't you just zap them out?"

God smiled. "I like to work with my hands. You know that."

"Huh. You sound like my pup."

"I 'pose I do. You and that Dean kid are good together." God used the spade to loosen the dirt around roots of the nearest sunflower, then sat back and eyed the plant. "I think I'll give these to Masaw. Said he needed a spot of color for his place. Underworld's looking a bit drab lately."

The Supreme Being dug a little more in the dirt with the spade, and then he chuckled. "I'm really glad you two didn't merge. But then, you never did what I wanted you to anyway."

"And you like it that way, too. So what can I do you out of today?"

God sighed. "My kids have gotten out of hand. They need to be rounded up, made to behave, and put out to pasture. You're not a border collie, but you're close."

The Lightbringer tried not to smile too broadly. He had to be careful about that, careful to hold himself in so he wouldn't stretch and break his current vessel's skin. Nick was looking rather thin around the edges these days. Lucifer couldn't wait to acquire his one true vessel, Samuel Winchester. Sam was perfect, nice and broad-shouldered and roomy inside.

Sam sighed. "Damn you." The young man shook his head and stared down at the worn beige carpet underneath his boots.

This was perfect. They were in a seedy hotel room two states away from that annoying older brother and that stupid blank-faced angel. Apparently the bounty the Morning Star put on the eldest brother worked. Satanists all over the country lined up to collect. There had been some attempts made already. It was only a matter of time.

Sam gave his brother the slip. Sam came to offer himself. Sam said yes. It was true; the brothers were each others' only weakness.

No doubt the child would ask that the eldest be spared, and of course Lucifer would agree to that.

And, of course, once he was comfortably inside Sam's delectable skin and in complete control, Lucifer would forget he ever made that promise, and he'd take care of Dean Winchester himself. There'd be one less vessel in the world.

And dear brother Michael would be without his Chosen Sword.

Lucifer managed to arrange the muscles of Nick's face into what he assumed was an expression of care and concern. The effect bordered on the grotesque, but Sam appeared not to notice. Nick's skin tore slightly, small rips here and there, but that didn't matter much. "Was there something you wanted to say to me, Samuel?" Lucifer purred.

The boy looked up and grinned. "Yeah. Gotcha."

"What?" The walls of the room began to smear, shifting into rough-hewn grey stone. The room transformed. Lucifer's skin prickled as the temperature shot up two thousand degrees and the bed, the carpet, everything in the room, blossomed into bright yellow hellfire.

Sam sat on the burning bed. He was totally unaffected by the heat and the flames. Golden highlights danced in his blue green eyes.

Lucifer sniffed at the air.

Sulfur.

No.

He backed up, towards the door, but it was far too late.

No!

The door was gone. All that remained was the circular rock walls, and the flame.

And what looked like Sam Winchester, but really wasn't.

This wasn't a motel room. This was…was…

Noooo!

"Lucy," notSam said in a singsong voice. "You're home!"

He vanished in a flare of golden light.

Nick's skin broke open as Lucifer clawed at the sulfur slick stone walls. The Lightbringer's dark essence spilled out into the smoky air and reformed into a winged man-shape.

Lucifer howled, loud and long, and the sound bounced off the walls of the Pit.

Two hours later

Castiel was pissed.

"I fell for you!" He snarled at Dean. Dean's eyes widened in fear. "I fell for you, gave up everything I had for you, and this is the thanks I get? You're going to give yourself to Michael?"

Rage, thick and heavy, rose up in Castiel. It threatened to choke him. Everything he learned during his time on earth fell away from him. The times this man greeted him warmly as a friend were forgotten. The idea that acting this way, that his actions were completely wrong, faded away. All he had to do was stop Dean, put him to sleep, and then take him back to Singer Salvage. That wouldn't do.

Dean Winchester needed to be punished.

Castiel fisted Dean's green fatigue jacket, picked him up and slammed him backwards into the brick wall.

"Cas, wait…" Dean gasped. "Please—"

"I pulled you out of Perdition. I did all that for you," Castiel growled. His right hand curled up into a fist. He wouldn't pull the blow either, even though Winchester was only human. Bones would break. There would be massive internal injuries. A lesson had to be learned. An example had to be made.

Dean needed to learn his place. He was too stubborn, too willful.

Castiel aimed his blow for Dean's face.

Dean chuckled. He put his hand up, palm out, and neatly caught the fist in his hand.

Castiel blinked.

Dean smirked at him. "Yeah."

He closed his hand slightly. Bones crunched. The pain was overwhelming. In all his long life Castiel had never felt anything like it. His knees buckled, and he would have hit the ground if Dean hadn't grabbed his tie and pulled him to his feet.

Castiel was jerked forward. He felt a curious ripping sensation. Something all around him fell away. The angel heard a crunching sound, something he'd never heard before. He'd never experienced that sudden pain in his nose, either. It was suddenly hard to breathe. It took him a moment to realize that his nose was broken. The impact of the next blow turned him halfway around.

His eyes widened at the sight of Jimmy Novak slumped unconscious against the alleyway wall.

No. How did -

Castiel looked down at himself. His essence was exposed now, slightly tarnished but still bright and shining in the gloom of the alley. Dean jerked him forward again. The air around the human crackled with a barely seen energy.

"I…I don't understand," Castiel stammered. "M—Michael?"

"Not even close." Dean's smile was bright and feral, the glint in his moss green eyes eternal and golden. "Heya, Bird Boy. Every dog has its day. Every dog. Remember that."